Malena Lott - Dating da Vinci

While Noble and Cortland talked golf and Judith tried to convince Zoya to visit Life Church that weekend, I noticed a familiar car pulling up in front of the house.

“Daddy!” Zoe squealed.

Rachel peered outside and slammed her fist on the table, rattling the china. “Wait a minute. Is that someone in the car with him? It is! It's a woman.” She threw down her napkin and shot up from her chair.

I opened the curtain and saw Anh slinking in the front seat and Michael trying to convince her to get out. This wouldn't end well.

“We'll make room,” Noble said cheerfully. “The more the merrier, right, dear?”

“We'll do no such thing,” Rachel said, following her daughter out the door.

Anh was resting against the passenger door and Vi was still in her carseat in the back when I reached them.

Zoe rushed to hug her father, and Rachel stopped in her tracks on the sidewalk. “ You! ”

Anh glanced up sheepishly and fingered a wave to Rachel. Michael beamed, oblivious to his ex-wife's reaction. “Great. Everybody's here. But I guess introductions aren't necessary.”

Rachel spun on her heel and glared at me. “You knew all along, didn't you? Your best friend was sleeping with my husband and you didn't have the decency to tell me about it. What kind of sister are you?”

Michael took Anh's hand and stared at his ex-wife. “Would it kill you to be happy for me?”

Rachel stuck her nose into the air. “Be nice! Ha! You'll be sorry you ever crossed me! And don't even think about asking me back! I wouldn't take you back if you were the last human on earth!”

Michael smirked. “I don't think that will be a problem. Come on, let's not ruin a perfectly good holiday.”

“ Good? What do I have to be thankful for? A jackass husband and a lying, conniving sister who keeps secrets behind my back? Yes, Happy Thanksgiving, indeed! While you're busy ruining my life, is there anything else I should know about?” Rachel stared at me, then Cortland, and back again.

Cortland began to raise his hand, when I slapped it down. “No, I think that will do it for today.”

Rachel stomped back into the house. Anh got Vi out of the car seat while Michael began walking up the steps with his daughter. I stayed back and waited for Anh. “For some reason, I thought she'd take the news better.”

Anh walked in stride beside me. “Kill me now,” she muttered.

Cortland grabbed my fingers, pulling me back so we were the last in line to reach the front porch. “So Rachel broke up with me last night, just before I got the chance.”

“So I heard.”

“So have you told her you'd like to start seeing me?”

“I don't know if I'd like to start seeing you. Are all doctors this presumptuous, or is it just you?”

He put his hand on my waist, and his forearm next to my head, pushing me back against the brick of the house. “Well, I think you should know our duck house passed inspection. With flying feathers, you might say. I close tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? That's awfully soon, isn't it?”

“When you know what you want, why wait?”

“I suppose I could bake you some cookies as a housewarming gift. To welcome you to the neighborhood and all.”

“Cookies? I had something else in mind.”

“My father always said patience was a virtue.”

“British origin, right? The capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble or suffering without getting angry or upset. Yeah, I pretty much suck at that.”

“What are you, some kind of walking dictionary?”

“No, but I'm pretty good at defining what I want. Getting it is the tough part.”

Our eyes lingered, and I touched his cheek as he leaned in closer. “We better get inside,” I said, my hand pressed against his chest.

Cortland stepped back. “I'm going to take off. I've got Lindsey for the weekend. She's going to help me move in.”

“Okay, then. I'll see you around.”

Cortland began walking down the sidewalk, when he turned back. “You know when you said that I put people to sleep for a living?”

“I recall something of the sort.”

“Well, just remember that I wake them up, too.”

“ Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit. ”

– Kahlil Gibran

ACCORDING TO PSYCHOLOGISTS, 95 percent of people think about sex at least once a day. I belonged squarely within the freakish 5 percent that didn't. Until da Vinci. After that, I thought about sex a dozen times a day-nothing compared to a man, but often for a woman. As I finished up my dissertation to hand in to my professor, I realized I hadn't been missing the physical act of sex. Sure, I'd been missing pleasure, but what I'd missed most was the golden triangle of sex, love and communication. I missed a real-thing relationship. I thought After, I'd never be real with anyone again, settling within the uncomfortable typecast of a melancholy widow. It was only after I stepped back into the world of the living again that I could consider loving again.

Author Josh McDowell claims that “I love you” can be interpreted several different ways. One meaning is “I love you if,” based on what the other person does. My sister could love Cortland if he lived in a mansion with a heated pool. Another meaning is “I love you because,” based on what the other person is: attractive, strong, intelligent. Da Vinci believed he loved me because I was kind to him in a strange new world. Because I took him in. Because I made him feel safe and warm and wanted.

I wondered if Joel loved Monica solely because she was beautiful, but a part of me believed Joel had loved Monica the third way-the same way he'd loved me: unconditionally. She was the one who had betrayed him, had loved him because he was the safe choice, the opposite of her equal partner Jonathon. Perhaps Joel loved her despite her being beautiful. For so long I had wanted Joel to love me more, better, longer, deeper, but after all that's happened, I knew how one could love differently and have it mean as much as the other.

The best and hardest love to achieve is unconditional. I love you, period. I love you when you gain twenty pounds, make a mess around the house, and grow black hairs from your moles. I don't just love you until someone better comes along. I love you forever.

I knew I had this kind of love with Joel. He didn't just love me until Monica was ready to return to him. He never would've jeopardized what we had. I was ashamed I had thought that he would leave me so easily.

I wanted to release Monica of her guilt before Christmas. Whatever she had to get off of her chest, I was ready and willing to listen. It was the second week of December, the first snowfall salting the earth as I drove to her office to meet her. She was busy as usual, squeezing me in between two appointments. My dissertation was tucked neatly in my portfolio, ready to hand over to the professor after I met with Monica.

I entered the building, visualizing the lines Joel had sketched in creating his work of art. Most architects use computers now, but Joel had been old school. He loved nothing more than his drafting table and a freshly sharpened pencil. I could feel Joel's presence with me as I made my way through the marble corridor to the stainless steel elevator. Monica Blevins, top floor. Of course. Corner office. Nothing but the best.

Her assistant showed me into her office where she was bent over paperwork, black framed glasses on her pretty face, lips as red as beets. She smiled upon seeing me and rose to greet me. “Thanks so much for coming,” she said warmly. “I'm sorry we have to meet in a stuffy law office.” I admired the exquisite décor and breathtaking view from her floor-to-ceiling window-nothing stuffy about it. I wondered if Joel had known which office would be Monica's, if he had spec'ed in special accommodations for her. It seemed like the sort of thing he would do.